


Quartz

by starship_orion



Series: 🌟theo's 2020 writing ⚡️ [4]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Cause she's actually ROSE QUARTZ ooo, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Idk how I'll do the romance but I'm willing to try!!!, Midoriya Inko is Dead, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Multi, Shinsou Hitoshi Replaces Mineta Minoru, Shinsou Hitoshi is in Class 1-A, or pd whatever you wanna call her, rewrite of an old fic, technically, uhh, with both fandoms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26334145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starship_orion/pseuds/starship_orion
Summary: Midoriya Izuku's mother was a great warrior-- a hero, hidden in the shadows, fighting evils nobody knew about. When he was born, she passed all her powers onto him, in the form of a pink rose quartz gem, situated where his navel should be.Izuku aspires to be a great hero, like All Might, but also a great hero like his mother-- and nothing, not even evil organizations, ex-heroes, serial killers, lies, or his slightly overprotective father, can stop him.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Midoriya Hisashi/Midoriya Inko, Midoriya Izuku & Shinsou Hitoshi, Midoriya Izuku/Shinsou Hitoshi
Series: 🌟theo's 2020 writing ⚡️ [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825324
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	Quartz

_**Everyone knew Midoriya Hisashi was a strange man.** _

For starters, he bought an abandoned home at the end of the street; one that had been overgrown with vines and peculiar roses for years. It was a miracle that no structural damage had been done to the building in old age. The man had practically, all by himself, taken down the vines and built the house back up from scratch.

Not only did he decide it would be the place where he would live for the rest of his life, instead of selling it off or renting it out to make a profit, he was, on top of all of that, _an artist._

He wasn’t a famous artist, but his name would appear in art galleries in Tokyo every few months, and people would wonder about the recluse by the sea. Wonder what his life was like, in a perfectly-pruned rose garden and a great view of the sea, painting away to his heart’s content.

He was young as well; he looked like he had barely been a day out of art school, or college, or wherever he attended. He would change up the answer frequently of where exactly he went, he claimed to have studied abroad to become more cultured, he claimed to have gone to the biggest art school in Japan, he claimed many things. All of them could be seen as true, because when Hisashi spoke to people, he chatted them up like they were old friends.

He made friends with many of his neighbors, and his neighbors’ neighbors, and even the cranky old man who lived across from him; the cranky old man would complain, but knew there was goodness in Hisashi’s heart through and through.

He dressed freely as well. One day he would walk out to water his guardian in silk pajamas; the next day, right before an art show, it would be an elaborate suit of colors and stripes. Had art not made it well for him, Hisashi could have also fared it well in the fashion industry if he desired.

Quite a strange, peculiar man. 

Not to mention, one day, he suddenly just. Had a baby with him. There was no mother ever mentioned, but he turned up to the hospital one day to put down files for a baby, and he just had a baby. There was no mother listed on file, it was as if the baby was willed into existence.

A baby with a strange, pink gem where his navel should be. But nothing stood out in the world of quirks like this; it was listed down as a potential mutation quirk and left at that. Midoriya Hisashi gave out very little information on the baby boy, trying to give him just a normal life. 

But little baby Midoriya Izuku was much more than that.

For what people could not see behind the scenes, there was love.

Midoriya Hisashi was a man who loved greatly and deeply, who could understand emotions on a level that most normal people could not (because of his quirk). And he fell in love with a woman, who was trying to escape her past, over and over again; and he broke down her walls and they had a child that was a fusion of _love_ and _feeling_ ; even though the woman ceased to exist because of the child, love is what filled the Midoriya household at the end of the street.

Love for nature. Love for the garden. Love for flowers.

Love for painting. Love for beauty. Love for art.

_Love for, most importantly, each other._

♦♦♦♦

It isn’t often that someone knocks on the door to his house. 

Well, scratch that-- Izuku knows it’s common, sometimes, when his dad forgets his keys and comes home late. Izuku’s never too far away from the house phone (and now, a cheap old cell phone that he got as a birthday present to learn responsibility) those nights where his dad has late art shows.

He’s a responsible kid. He can survive those long nights, on his own. 

He used to go to the art shows, but once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. And his dad felt awful for bringing him to too many, and wanted to allow his son to have a normal childhood.

As normal as one can be in Izuku’s situation.

But he’s _very mature_ for his age, according to his teachers. _Very mature, very kind._

But a knock on the door at this time of day is unusual.

He knows his dad is asleep in his own bedroom; dozing after a long night of sudden painting. The living room is still covered in tarp canvas; with an easel set up to look out the large bay window. 

He’s seven, so he’s old enough to answer the door to whatever wandering salesman comes to greet him.

He’s shocked, though, when opening the door reveals a kid his own age, with slicked-up purple hair and tired (and also shocked) eyes.

“Oh, hi.” The purple-hair boy flushed a deep scarlet. Izuku didn’t need his father’s quirk to know how embarrassed he was. 

Izuku blinked at the boy a few times, before glancing behind him, and seeing the familiar shapes of the neighborhood boys hidden behind the fence his father built years ago. The laughter was barely being held in, but Izuku could hear it, and the sight of his friends’ blond hair and wings were too familiar. 

_Ah._

Another prank.

“Kacchan! Riku-kun! Tero-kun! Hi there!”

Kacchan stood up straight, glancing over the fence. His palms crackled with small explosions-- a threat, but it bounced right off of Izuku. “Damn it, Deku, you always ruin it!”

“Maybe you should stop trying to scare new kids with the rumors my house is haunted, then!” Even though the old playground taunt hit hard, Izuku stuck his tongue out at the trio. Kacchan called it quits just a few moments later. The three kids turned around, leaving the purple-haired boy on Izuku’s steps, confused and embarrassed.

Izuku turned to the boy, crossing his arms. “What’s the story this time?”

“I-- um,” The boy stumbled over his words. “‘Said it was a creepy house. Had to leave an offering at the door or I’d die in my sleep.”

Izuku laughed. “He uses that _every_ time.” He held out his hand. “I’m Midoriya Izuku!”

The boy stared at the hand for a few moments, before cautiously accepting it. “Shinsou Hitoshi.”

“Nice to meet you!” Izuku gave him the biggest smile he could offer. “Are you new here?”

Shinsou nodded. “Just last night. Mom said I have to go out and try and make new friends today. Guess they just set me up for a mess.”

“Kacchan’s a meanie sometimes, but he’s got a good heart. The other kids…” Izuku hesitated. “Well, they follow him around because he’s the loudest. I dunno, they’re kinda bullies, too. But they have their nice days.”

It’s nice to talk to someone. It’s not that Izuku is introverted or extroverted; he’s probably more of an ambivert, in the middle ground, but sometimes, as complicated and interesting as humans are, they are _so hard_ to talk to. He’s got his special interests, of quirks and heroes and analysis, but no one ever understands it. And those that do can get tired of him talking about little else.

So it’s nice to talk to someone brand new. A new slate; and new friend.

Yup, Shinsou was already Izuku’s friend 

“That’s reassuring.” Shinsou deadpanned. 

“But hey, don’t worry about them! You’ve already made one friend today!”

“...What?”

Izuku pointed at himself. “Me! I’m your friend now!”

Shinsou blinked. 

He didn’t know what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

“You wanna come in and see some of my hero stuff? Or get a drink or something?”

Shinsou shrugged, which Izuku took as _sure,_ so he grabbed the boy’s arm and brought him into the colorful Midoriya house.

(What Izuku didn’t know at the time was that Shinsou and his newly-single mother had moved to a new place for Shinsou to start school, after a bad divorce with his father. It was never physically abusive, but it was a relationship that crossed too many lines, and his mother had enough of it; and with Shinsou’s dark quirk, he’d gotten bullied too much. This school district would not be much better with his quirk, but at the very least, Shinsou had Midoriya Izuku by his side the whole time.)

“What’s with the… mess?” Shinsou was shocked at the sight of the Midoriya living room; the couch and comfy-chair that were laid out were covered in cloth tarps, stained with a kaleidoscope of paint. The single easel was still out, facing the window, but there was paint splattered almost everywhere. Looks like his dad had been in one of _those_ painting moods.

“Ah, my dad was up painting late last night.” Izuku said, as if this was a normal occurrence. It was past one-thirty by then; and it seemed like his dad hadn’t shown any interest in waking up yet. “He’s a really cool artist! He gets his art put in a lot of art museums all over Tokyo!”

“Really?” Shinsou asked. He approached the current work of art closer. “...It looks just like a mess of colors.”

“He does a lot of abstract art.” Izuku explained, stepping closer as well. It was an interesting painting, with many cool tones, blues and greens and purples zigzagging across the canvas. It’s half-finished, his dad must’ve collapsed in his bed near two-am. “My dad’s quirk is Chromoempathy! He sees emotions like colors, and he likes to pain them a lot.”

“...Cool.”

“I dunno what this is, though.”

“...Oh.”

(What the two boys also didn’t know on that fateful day would be the friendship of a lifetime they formed. Izuku and Shinsou (now called, affectionately Toshi-kun) became the best of friends that day.)

♦♦♦♦

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

Izuku was certain the clock was mocking him and going by slower, but what was that phrase Toshi-kun had mentioned to him once? _A watched pot never boils._

Still, the clock was definitely mocking him at that point. They were in their last fifteen minutes of school before they were allowed to leave, and then it would be another day done and over with at Aldera Junior High, which meant that Izuku and Toshi-kun would be free for the rest of the weekend.

_Tick, tock._

He scribbled anxiously in the corner of his notebook; it was already covered in doodles and notes he’d taken that day of a villain fight he’d encountered on the way to school. One he’d almost been late because of, but it wasn't every day you were able to witness the debut of a hero like Mt. Lady.

It was probably at least once a week, but with school, Izuku misses them _a lot_ . So being able to see one in person? _Awesome._

At the very least, he was able to get his tardiness excused because the villain fight clogged the streets for a while, but it was just a narrow miss.

Yona-sensei at the front of the room was saying something that Izuku missed; but it was something that everyone broke out into cheers for. Probably something Izuku should tune back into, especially when Kacchan’s voice from in front of him attracted everyone’s attention.

“Yes, yes, you all have amazing quirks, but school rules, please--”

“Listen up, teach, I’m the only one of these losers who will ever make it to Yuuei. You hear?” 

“Right, Bakugou, you are trying for Yuuei…” Yona-sensei shuffled through his papers, again. “Midoriya, Shinsou, you two are trying as well, aren’t you?”

At the sound of their names, the entire class broke out into laughter. Most of it was directed at Shinsou, and Izuku felt his fists ball up and body tense, but some of it was directed at him by proxy. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” The teacher doesn’t say anything as Kacchan turned and set off a small explosion in his hand, an act of intimidation. No reprimand for using his quirk in class, unlike moments before. “Deku’s got a weak-ass quirk and eyebags has a villain’s quirk. You both would never make it.”

“Hey, never say never!” Izuku interrupted, standing up from his seat. “We both have what it takes to get into Yuuei!”

“Yeah, right!”

“Midoriya, sit down.” Yona-sensei’s voice cut through the crowd. _Of course._ “I don’t want to have to send you to the office again, do I?”

“But I--”

“ _Midoriya_.”

Izuku sighed, sitting back down, and his classmates broke out into giggles and murmurs as the teacher took back the attention on how important high school was. He glanced to the front of the classroom, where Toshi-kun sat, sending him a weak smile.

Toski-kun sent a weaker one back, before sighing and looking back to the front of the classroom.

Izuku turned back to his notebook. They’d show them all that it doesn’t matter what kind of quirk you have, you can make it.

And it’s not like Izuku’s “quirk” is weak at all. Sure, it mostly portrayed itself as a pink gem lodged where his navel should be and a bubble protective shield around him, but he’s getting better at summoning his mother’s shield! And there’s more he’s supposed to be able to do, but going through the journal his mother left for him is hard. 

Not just because her kanji is awful and worse than a child’s, but emotionally. It was everything she had left to say to him before she could give birth. He’s reading her final words, even if he can’t hear them.

And it’s really… sad.

Izuku never got to have an okaasan like many of his other classmates. For most of them, Musutafu was a safe place to live. Not too much crime, pretty safe to live and raise a family, but Izuku must’ve been an outlier with his lack of mother.

She still left him her words, and that’s all he can hold dear to him from her.

♦♦♦♦

The sun rolled into late afternoon as Izuku and Hitoshi discarded the remains of their ice cream wrappers. It was a warm day, unusually warm for the time of the year, and while they had homework they _should_ be doing-- which will, most likely, be done last-minute as it always is-- they wanted a little bit of time spent together under the warm sun.

“So you’re going to try Plan B, then, Zuku?” 

“Hm?” Izuku looked up, into the ever-droopy eyes of his best friend.

“Plan B. You haven’t told your dad about Yuuei yet.”

“...No.”

Izuku wanted, so badly, to be a hero. He’d been studying for years, he’d taken the mock written exams and passed them with flying colors, and he’d been training with his quirk as much as he could with the very little guidance he had. The bubble he could summon was tough, and the shield was getting easier to control, but the list of possibilities that Izuku could have could be more than what his mother wrote down in her final moments. 

He’d spoken about his dream often to his dad, but…

But his dad didn’t want it.

_It’s too dangerous. You’ll get hurt._

_It’s too dangerous. Someone might find a way to take your power._

_It’s too dangerous._

_I don’t want to lose you._

It was coming from a good place, Izuku knew. He loved his dad and his dad loved him, and the love was never out of place or missing in their house, except in this one instance.

Of a boy who longed to be a hero, and a father who didn’t want him to chase that dream.

At the same time, he doesn’t understand _why._ His mom was a hero-- one his dad would talk about. A hero of immense strength and beauty and love, one not seen by the public but working in the background, in the shadows, not an underground hero, but protecting the public from dangers her entire life. An ancient hero. A true gem. A remnant of a war fought long ago, one humanity had never known about. 

He couldn’t understand how his dad could fall in love with this ancient hero and then not allow his son to go on a similar path of saving the world, helping people, protecting lives, when his mother did the same. It wasn’t the job that killed his mother; it was technically Izuku because she breathed her last as he took his first.

Then Izuku thought of the amazing _Plan B,_ where he wouldn’t have to let his dad know about getting into Yuuei until he _got in_ , and then his dad wouldn’t be able to say no. It was foolproof, it was genius, and it was…

Well, it was lying. It was going behind his dad’s back. And he felt awful. And lying about it was going to be hard-- with a dad who can understand your emotions, it was incredibly hard to lie.

“He’s got a big art show coming up in ten months, same week as the entrance exam.” Izuku explained, and how _lucky_ he was. Izuku wouldn’t be expected to be home, his dad would assume he was at a friend’s house, so it would be so easy to get around and take the entrance exam. All he had to do in it was avoid any grave injury that would warrant a phone call home and he’d be fine!

“Yeah, but have you tried just sitting him down and talking about it?”

“No, I haven’t.” Izuku sighed. “Every time I mention it, he’s like, ‘we’ll talk about this later’, but there’s only so many times I can hear the excuse before I’m annoyed. Like, _when_ is the later, you know?”

Speaking of his father, his phone buzzed with a message from him. A link to a recipe a friend had given him at an expo, one that his dad had probably just remembered to send. 

_You’d think, with a quirk like his, he’d understand,_ he thought, but Izuku knew his father could sometimes put on rose-tinted glasses to ignore his empathetic powers completely. 

Literally. He had glasses that toned down the effect of his quirk so he could function in crowds without sensory overloads.

“ _I_ could always help.”

Izuku smiled at his friend. It didn’t mean “i could help brainwash him”, it meant _I can sit there, by your side, be an advocate for you. After all you’ve done for me._ “Thanks, Toshi-kun. That means a lot.”

“My mom also says you might be subconsciously worried that you’ll convince your dad only to fail in the entrance exam and never have a shot at becoming a hero.” Hitoshi added.

“Less thanks.”

“No prob.” 

It was a perfect afternoon. Two friends were walking home from getting ice cream after school, laughing and talking about their big dreams. 

Nothing could ruin it.

Until.

 _It_ did.

It came suddenly, out of nowhere, is what Izuku would say when he recounted the story years later, but in all reality, there was a beat of hesitation, walking under the bridge.

It was a small overpass, right by the river that cut through Musutafu to the old, gross-looking trash beach at the other end of the sea. There wasn’t anything special about it except it was quiet. Not unusually quiet, but a peaceful, serene quiet, and Izuku and Hitoshi’s laughter echoed off the concrete as they dipped under it.

They passed over a manhole. Nothing new.

But there was a beat of stillness that Izuku could sense. Something _coming,_ **_but not quite._ **He never understood his dad’s empathy quirk, but it came pretty close to understanding something was coming and the sudden fear that came as a wall of slime burst out of the ground.

They both froze in their tracks, turning with widened eyes behind them, and see a mass of a living slime. It was large and made of mostly green sludge, a viscous, grotesque form staring down at them, with two eyes floating in it.

It looked down and a mouth formed, and a tongue formed, and it licked its nonexistent lips as it stared into Izuku’s soul and spoke.

_“Ah, a perfect meat-suit.”_

And it lunges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I guess I have more to explain, don't I?
> 
> This won't be replacing [Spellbound](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24970828/chapters/60450340), don't worry. Like the other mini-fics I've been posting, this will probably be just something I write in my free time to warm up for Big Spellbound Writing Time™. I was listening to the s1 soundtrack of Steven Universe, remembered this crossover/idea I had where Izuku is Rose Quartz's son, and this seemed to be word-vomited out at 10pm on a Sunday Night when I should have been doing work.
> 
> So I rewrote it, and here I am. No beta. We die like men/women/nonbinary people.
> 
> I don't know why but I don't feel creatively challenged if I'm not juggling multiple writing projects, a class about screenwriting, a class where I have to make videos for my student newspaper and a personal youtube channel. 
> 
> Might as well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
